by Cole, Cassie
I felt my body go cold. “Hawk, what is this?”
He tensed again. His face was covered with shadows caused by the indirect glow of the flashlight, but I could see the fear in his eyes. Absolute terror that I had discovered the truth.
“Peaches…” he began.
“You did it,” I whispered. Even saying it out loud, it didn’t seem real. “This is the Copperhead money. You did steal from Sid!”
“It’s not that simple,” he began, hands held out like I was going to do something drastic.
“It’s not? Then tell me what this is. Is this the drug money Sid has been searching for? The money you’ve been insisting you didn’t take?”
“Yes.” The word was as soft as the moonlight streaming through the trees, but still struck me like a hammer. “It is.”
“How much is in there?” I asked. The bag was so small. I’d imagined boxes and boxes of cash. “$15,000? $20,000?”
“I didn’t want you to know about it,” he said as he covered up the hole with the crate top, and then a layer of leaves and dirt. “The more you know, the more danger you’re in from Sid.”
“Okay,” I said, buying the logic. Hawk walked back toward the barn and I followed a few steps behind, processing everything.
But by the time we got back inside, the logic was crumbling in my head.
“Your sister was killed,” I said in disbelief. “You let her die for that money.”
He rounded on me, face twisted in anger and pain. He pointed a finger at my face. “Don’t say that.”
“But you did,” I insisted. “Sid wanted his money back, and instead of giving it to him, you let the Copperheads kill her.”
“Of course I would have given him the money!” he roared, voice echoing in the barn. His face was red and his eyes glistened with tears. “If I had known he would go after Theresa I would have handed it over without thinking twice. But Sid never gave me the chance. He went to Theresa’s house and killed her before I could.”
I wanted to believe him. Part of me did. But I was thinking about all the other chances Hawk had had…
“That day on the road,” I said softly. “The first time I ever saw Sid. One of the Copperheads held you in a headlock while Sid walked toward me with the crowbar.”
“When he trashed my truck?” Hawk asked with annoyance. “I remember.”
“But you didn’t know he was going for the truck.” My voice cracked with emotion. Pain for me, and pain at having to confront him like this. “Later, you told me that you thought he was coming to hurt me. Right?”
Hawk responded only with silence. A tear finally broke from his eye.
“You thought Sid was going to hurt me,” I said, tears blurring my own vision now. “You had the way to stop him. And you said nothing.”
“Peaches…”
“Nothing!” I screamed. “You thought he was about to kill me and you said nothing. You were going to let him do it!”
Hawk sat on the bed and held his head in his hands. He looked like a broken, defeated man. “You don’t understand how Sid works. I had only just met you…”
“Oh, well then okay,” I shouted. “It’s totally cool that he was going to bash my head in with a crowbar when I was just a random girl to you. But now that you’ve been fucking me it makes you sad. Is that it? A girl is only worth saving if she helps get your dick wet?”
He rose from the bed and took my head in both of his hands. “Charlotte. You don’t understand what I’ve gone through. What that money represents. Please, you have to understand…”
His charm wasn’t working. It was like a spell had been removed and I could see him clearly for the first time. He wasn’t a misunderstood metalworking artist who just wanted to be loved. He was the same selfish biker jerk I’d met in that jail cell weeks ago.
I pulled the roll of $20 bills out of my pocket and hurled it across the room. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you ever again.”
“Peaches,” he pleaded.
I walked out of the door, and then I was running. I had to get away as quickly as possible.
“Peaches!” he shouted into the night.
37
Charlotte
I jogged until I reached the main road, then slowed down. I waited for Hawk to come running after me, or to roar by on his bike to beg for my forgiveness and explain everything away. But he didn’t.
His absence as I walked the three miles back to the motel felt like an admission of guilt.
He couldn’t chase after me because there was no explanation for his actions. No magic words that would magically absolve him of his sins. After a mile I got so sick to my stomach thinking about the situation that I vomited on the side of the road. It made me feel better, but only a little.
I’d been sleeping with a jerk. “An asshole,” I said out loud, savoring the curse. The word jerk wasn’t strong enough for this situation. I’d been sleeping with a guy who would let me die for an amount of money equivalent to a brand new Honda Civic.
And Hawk had let his sister die for it.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I felt used, like he’d been hiding his true self all this time. Surely I wouldn’t have slept with him all these nights if I had really known who he was.
But I knew that wasn’t really true. I’d been attracted to him the moment he laughed at me in that jail cell my first night in Eastland. There was something about Hawk that I couldn’t resist. His true nature was part of that attraction.
And as I walked home, the truth began to sink in. I wasn’t mad at Hawk. At least, not primarily.
I was angry at myself for falling in love with him.
The black hole in my stomach was the ache of terrible betrayal. It hurt far more than learning Scott had been cheating on me with Tammy, and worse than any other break-up I’d had in high school or college. No matter how much I wanted to pretend like it wasn’t true, I had fallen madly in love with Hawk. I’d been waiting for him to finish his community service and profess his love for me. To drive me out of town on his motorcycle, and then we would ride off into the sunset toward some unknown future together.
My chest legitimately felt like it had been smashed with a crowbar. Maybe it would have been better if Sid had done the job.
Miraculously, I never saw anyone on the road back, which meant I didn’t have to dive into the woods to hide. But it was a humid night, the kind where just walking made you sticky. By the time I reached the motel I was sweaty and upset. Instead of taking a shower, I collapsed straight into bed.
I’m not too proud to admit I cried myself to sleep that night.
I woke the next morning to Hawk’s familiar smell. A surge of hope filled me that it was all a bad dream, that we were sleeping together in his barn, but then I realized where I was and the source of his comforting smell: I was still wearing his t-shirt.
I pulled it over my head, balled it up, and threw it in the motel trash.
I got ready for the day with renewed purpose: to get the heck out of this awful town. Every part of my routine felt extra special: the last shower I would take in this motel. The final time I would brush my teeth in front of this sink. The last glass of slightly off-tasting tap water I would drink.
I packed my belongings and put them in the back seat of my car. For good measure, I started the engine just to make sure the battery hadn’t died. It purred to life as it should. Out of all the things that might stop me from leaving Eastland today, mechanical trouble would not be one of them.
“Hey Billy,” I said as I walked into the lobby. He’d been snoring with his head tilted back in his chair, and jerked awake like a frightened animal. “This is my last day.”
“Oh, right.” He actually looked kind of sad. “Alright then. You payin’ your balance?”
“That’s the idea.” I pulled out my checkbook. “Hey, when are checks deposited?”
He frowned. “I dunno. You’d have to ask the sheriff. He does all the money stuff.”
I hesitated. “I don’t suppose you’d do me a favor.”
He blinked. “I guess?”
“If I write you a check for my balance, maybe wait a few days before giving it to him? Just to make sure the money clears my account.”
“Aww, man,” Billy replied, running a hand through his messy hair. “I would, but the sheriff always grabs the checks the day I get ‘em. He don’t like havin’ them floating around. Kinda paranoid. Hey, you want to just give the check straight to him? You’re seein’ him today, right?”
“I am,” I said, thinking of the release paperwork I would have when my three remaining hours were done. “And yeah, I think I’ll do that.” I gave him a nod. “Thanks for everything, Billy. Have a nice life.”
“Charlotte?” he asked as I turned to the door. He was blushing and staring down at the desk. “You’ve been a real nice guest. Usually it’s just me sittin’ here all night in an empty motel, or some of those Copperheads rentin’ rooms and trashin’ them and whatnot. It’s been great havin’ someone like you around instead.”
I smiled at the kid. I was strangely touched by his affection. “I’ll miss you too, Billy. And your $3 bags of M&Ms.”
He met my eyes, then blushed even deeper.
I walked to main street and began thinking about what I would say to Hawk. I was dreading seeing him, because there wasn’t anything to say. He would either pretend like I was mistaken about my assumptions, or he would lean into it and tell me that’s who he really was. Whichever way it went, I didn’t want to hear it.
The dread grew in my chest as I got closer to town. It was like walking into class to give a report I never actually wrote. I wanted to turn and run back to the motel, to call Mindy and tell her I was too sick to do the work.
That would only delay my exit from this awful town, but the desire was so compulsive that it was difficult just to keep moving forward.
Yet as I arrived on the main street, there was no white truck parked outside the community center. No guilty-looking man with crystal blue eyes and a smile that would make me forget all the reasons I was angry.
I sat on the bench and waited. I browsed Twitter, waited some more, and then looked at the clock. It was 8:15. I could call or text him to make sure he was okay…
No. That would be a mistake. I didn’t care anymore. Instead, I went into the diner to ask Mindy.
“There she is,” Flop said from the first booth. He had a mug of coffee in his hand and a half-eaten cinnamon roll on his plate. “Last day here, right?”
“It sure is.”
“Lucky you,” he said with a sad smile. A smile that held my secrets. “Don’t dawdle on your way out. Run, and don’t look back.”
“I plan to.”
Mindy came out of the kitchen with a plate holding the largest cinnamon roll I’d ever seen. “Heard you missed my last batch. Made some more for your last day.”
“You didn’t have to do that!” I began, but she waved it off.
“Nobody ever earned brownie points by turning down free food. Sit down and have some breakfast. We’ll consider it community service in helping me taste-test a new recipe.”
I obeyed by sitting down in the booth and immediately digging in with a fork. The cinnamon roll was so fluffy that my fork cut through it with ease, and the icing was sweet and amazing.
“Should I wait for Hawk?” I asked as Mindy poured me some coffee. “He isn’t here yet.”
Mindy raised an eyebrow. “So today’s the day he stopped coming?” She laughed to herself. “About time he quit. Surprised he kept it up this long.”
I almost started to defend Hawk by telling her he was always a model citizen when it came to the community service, but I stopped myself. He didn’t need me to defend him, nor did he deserve it.
“You can do the work by yourself,” she said. “It’s an easy day. Unless you’ve got bad allergies?”
“I do not,” I said with my mouth full.
The work sheet instructed me to use a broom to brush all the yellow pollen off the main street of town. It was the time of year where it fell in giant yellow clouds, coating everything in sight. But I didn’t have allergies at all, so sweeping the road one yard at a time was calm, relaxing work.
The only thing stressful about it was waiting for Hawk to show up. Every time I heard a truck or motorcycle come rumbling up the road I tensed, but it was never him. I was alone.
Which was exactly what I wanted. To quietly finish my work and get the heck out of this town. Hawk showing up would only delay that.
At least, that’s what I told myself. The ache in my gut tried to convince me otherwise.
I finished my work and then visited Mindy again. She pulled out the master sheet of community service, marked me down for the final three hours, and then had me sign at the bottom.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s it.” She smiled, but only for a moment. “Looks like your ride is here.”
The sheriff’s cruiser pulled up to the community center and parked. I took a deep breath and went out to meet him.
38
Hawk
I fucked it up.
I groaned as I rolled sideways in my bed, sending an empty bottle of whiskey clinking heavily to the floor. I listened to it roll in a rainbow arc before settling against the wall.
I’d had everything I ever could have wanted in life. A beautiful woman who looked back at me with the same love I felt myself. Someone who let me be myself, without the walls I put up around other people. A woman I could—and wanted to—talk to. Someone I could see myself spending the rest of my life with.
And I’d fucked it up.
I winced at the sunlight streaming in the high windows of the barn, then forced myself to get up and drink a glass of water. She was gone. If she hadn’t come back by now, she wasn’t going to. It was too late.
I wandered into my workshop. It was full of things I’d created with love and inspiration. The sight of my art was sickening, now. I’d pushed away the only woman who appreciated it. If Charlotte had even been telling the truth.
The baseball bat fit nicely in my palms as I pulled back and swung at the nearest metal statue. A home run swing to the head, bending the neck sideways. It made the statue look like he was pondering something deep, like philosophy.
Four more swings and the head finally broke away from the rest, clattering across the floor.
I thrashed around me with the bat, striking anything and everything within reach. I wasn’t satisfied until I’d destroyed half of my workshop. Statues and tools. By the time I stopped my arms ached like I’d chopped wood for an hour.
It didn’t make me feel any better.
My eyes found a photograph of Theresa taped to the wall. The regret in my chest twisted into despair, and then despair into anger. Finally anger roared up like a bellows fire, from cold steel into white-hot fury.
Sid. All of this was his fault. I’d been too scared to try anything against him before, but now I didn’t care.
Now, I didn’t have anything to lose.
I stalked back into my room and grabbed my phone. Someone answered it on the second ring.
“The fuck do you want?” asked someone else. One of Sid’s underlings answering for him.
“Let me speak to him.”
The peon barked a laugh. “He’s too busy to talk to a traitor like you.”
“I’ve got his money,” I said. “I’m ready to give it back. I’ll be on the main street at 2:00.”
I hung up because there was no point in waiting for confirmation. I knew Sid would be there. He wouldn’t be able to resist. And by 2:00, Charlotte would be gone from town. Away from all the danger.
I loaded my shotgun with fresh shells, then checked the magazine in my pistol. It was futile, since I would never get a chance to use all the ammo. In all likelihood I would only be able to fire one shot.
Hopefully that’s all I needed.
“You’re going to get your f
ucking money,” I said as I walked out to my bike. “Even if it kills me.”
That thought no longer scared me. Without Charlotte, I had nothing to live for.
Nothing except my revenge.
My bike rumbled underneath me as I shot away from the barn toward my fate.
39
Charlotte
“So,” the sheriff said from the front of the cruiser while driving along the Eastland road. “You think you’re all done with your community service.”
I ignored the way he phrased it and held up my packet of service hours signed by Mindy. “Busted my butt every day.”
The sheriff chuckled as if that were funny. “We’ll see what Judge Benjamin thinks.”
“Why do you say it like that?” I asked in my best humble tone. Like I was curious about the local bakery rather than questioning the sheriff’s judgement.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Our judge can be awfully merciful when he wants to be. But he can be swift to exact justice when he thinks justice has not been served.”
He chuckled some more, deepening my feeling of dread as we drove to the outskirts of town.
The judge was fishing on a part of the river that was shallow and rocky. As I got out of the sheriff’s cruiser and approached, I noticed that the water was so clear you could see the rocks underneath the surface. With the trees all around providing mostly shade, it was a peaceful fishing spot. It would have made a great place for a picnic.
“Charlotte Owens,” the judge said without turning to look. He wore the same fishing waders he had the first day I met him, though today he had forgone the hat, allowing sunlight to touch his pockmarked head. “Beautiful day under God’s blue sky, is it not?”
“Best one we’ve had since I got here,” I said. “A blessing, especially after all the rain we’ve had.”
“Without the rain, we wouldn’t appreciate the good weather as much,” he said, sounding more like a preacher than a judge. “You did a marvelous job on my fence. Amazing attention to detail.”